Rachel's not sure what propels her in this particular direction on this particular day. Normally after belting out the day's frustrations in song, she leaves the auditorium, drops by her locker, and then heads straight out to the parking lot.
Today she's so preoccupied that she's halfway to the gym before she even realizes. Perhaps her subconscious is hoping to run into Finn post-basketball.
She peeks through the gym doors, slightly disheartened to find it completely deserted, but before she can walk away a flash of movement catches her eye.
Pausing, Rachel realizes the door to the Cheerios locker room has been left ajar. Presumably by accident, as she's sure the Cheerios – however confident they might be – would not want just anybody to be able to see in. Jacob Ben Israel walks these halls after all.
Despite the hell often rained upon her by McKinley's cheerleaders, Rachel is not the type of person to just walk away. She takes a few steps towards the door and reaches for the handle when someone comes into focus.
It's Quinn.
She's facing away from the door, clad only in her Cheerios skirt and a black sports bra.
Rachel's hand grips the handle and she freezes. She wants to turn, to run, but she's transfixed by the smooth, milky skin of Quinn's back.
Quinn bends down to untie her white sneakers, and Rachel can't help her eyes trailing up the back of Quinn's long legs.
An unexpected burst of arousal shoots through her.
'God bless the perv indeed,' Rachel thinks wryly.
The desire to bend down and kiss every inch of those legs consumes her.
Until Quinn's muscles tense and she reaches around to undo her bra strap.
A shiver runs down Rachel's spine.
The bra falls away.
She's sure she stops breathing.
A phone rings.
Her vision blurs.
As Quinn reaches for her phone, Rachel comes to her senses and runs.
She sprints down the corridor, accidentally banging her bag against the hallway wall. Without looking back she launches herself into Mr Schue's classroom just as she hears Quinn call out 'perv' and slam the locker room door shut.
Rachel sinks down against the door, partly to block herself from view and partly because her legs just don't want to hold her up anymore.
'What just happened?'
She's never been attracted to another girl before, but there is no mistaking what she felt while looking at Quinn.
It's at least an hour before she dares to move, by which time it's getting dark out, but she couldn't risk being caught by Quinn and – if she's honest – she couldn't stop getting lost in the memories of what she'd seen and how her body had reacted to it.
It's the memory of Quinn's skin and the thought of touching it, of kissing it, that has Rachel searching against her hand later that evening.
In fact, it becomes a nightly activity.
Several weeks after the incident in the locker room, Rachel is much less confused but much more sexually frustrated.
Seeing Quinn walk around in her Cheerios outfit is the sweetest form of torture she's ever experienced, but it's their close proximity in the sectionals dressing room that leaves her barely able to breathe.
Almost all of the New Directions are in the foyer celebrating the win with their families, but Rachel's dads aren't there and neither are Quinn's parents, which leaves them alone in the dressing room.
"You were wonderful tonight, Quinn," Rachel says sincerely.
"Thanks, Rachel. So were you," Quinn responds with a smile.
Rachel ducks her head and thinks, 'it's now or never'.
"I, uh," she stops to clear her throat. "Could you unzip me?"
Quinn says nothing, just motions for Rachel to come closer.
When Rachel stands in front of her, Quinn's long fingers slip under Rachel's hair, gathering it gently and sweeping it over her left shoulder.
Some stray hairs dance against her neck and Rachel feels Quinn's finger slide across her skin in an effort to put them back in place.
Gripping the zipper Quinn pulls it down agonizingly slow. Her thumb is either mistakenly or intentionally placed to drag a long line down Rachel's spine and a trail of goose bumps breaks out beneath her touch.
Rachel's shallow breathing is almost panting in and out of her dry mouth – the only part of her that is dry – and it's all she can do to stay as still as possible.
When the zipper is fully down, Rachel sucks in a breath and starts to move but Quinn's hand on her waist stills her.
The other hand slides inside the zipper and ghosts over Rachel's back, pushing one side of the dress away.
Rachel stops breathing altogether when she feels Quinn's lips press against the back of her neck.
The next kiss is wetter and behind her ear, which almost causes Rachel's knees to buckle but Quinn's firm hand on her waist grounds her.
She opens her mouth to say something, anything, because she's Rachel Berry and she can't help but speak even when it might ruin everything. But before she can, a burst of excited chatter is outside the door, and she freezes as she realizes her teammates are about to walk in.
Before Rachel can even pull her thoughts into any kind of plan or explanation, Quinn's hand is out of her dress, her zipper has been returned to its original position and she feels a reassuring squeeze on her waist.
"To be continued," is whispered in her ear before Quinn grabs her bag and walks out.
Rachel shivers. She likes the sound of that.